Old Habits Die Hard.

I've wiped away the last traces of the mascara that stained my face. 

I've thrown away all the tissues.

I saw my friend out the door. 

I've collected myself.

For all intents and purposes, I had a fantastic day. I made it to all my classes (early!). I ran the errands I had planned to run. I had a great lunch with a good friend. I ate three meals. I was productive. I was on track, finally. 

And it felt good. 

So what was to happen later can only be categorized as some sort of break from reality. It was truly frightening. Never have I gone from 0 to--not even 60--100 like that. From a state of content to a state of complete dissolution  in less than a second. The scary part of that statement is the fact that, for once, I am not exaggerating. Complete dissolution. I lost it.

I can't even recall that half hour of my life.

I just remember downing shot after shot of vodka and my ragged breathing. 

The alcohol did not help to calm me down, so I regressed. I regressed back to something that I thought I had cut out of my life a long time ago, that was not a part of me anymore.

I thought wrong. Old habits truly die hard.

And yet, strangely, I felt that old creeping sense of comfort overcome me again.  

I am afraid I have opened the floodgates to demons of days past.